Anna Leahy
What Happened Was: my mother was pregnant with me
| What happened was | my mother was pregnant with me |
| she mapped a way through without stopping |
| What happened was | the dean thought she would stop |
| the dean wanted her to go away, he expected her to go away | |
| the dean said that she might fall down the stairs | |
| the dean made his secretary call to tell my mother this | |
| he would not tell her himself | |
| she was not worth his time | |
| she was expected to lose her way in this world |
| What happened was | my mother finished a semester late |
| she wore a graduation robe with three velvet stripes on each sleeve | |
| she held my months-old self for a photo, proof this could be done | |
| she missed that year’s bar exam | |
| she passed the bar exam the next year, a year late |
| What happened was | my mother told me that life wasn’t fair |
| my mother wrote fairness into the law for me |
| What happened was | my mother told me that other children needed her as much as I did |
| my mother had her own white phone on the wall for their emergencies |
| What happened was | my mother knew she didn’t have chances others did |
| my mother knew that she had chances others didn’t |
| What happened was | I grew up believing in fairness and chance |
What Happened Was: I was at a party at a fraternity house
| What happened was | I was at a party at a fraternity house |
| I had been to many parties at this fraternity house | |
| I knew the men in this fraternity house |
| What happened was | probably not what you think |
| What happened was | one of the men kept trying to kiss me |
| he had done this before at parties there | |
| when he drank enough, which was what we all did at parties there |
| What happened was | I asked him to leave me alone |
| I wandered away to get out of range | |
| I talked with other men | |
| I tried to avoid him | |
| I told him, just stop |
| What happened was | he followed |
| he pleaded | |
| he grabbed my arm | |
| he leaned in close | |
| I smelled his exhalations | |
| he would not go away |
| What happened was | I put my hand on his shoulder |
| I repeated, just stop | |
| I raised my knee to his crotch | |
| not especially swiftly | |
| not aggressively | |
| rather gently, somewhat firmly |
| What happened was | everyone treated him as harmless |
| his friends said he liked me, that was all | |
| I asked why they had not pulled him away | |
| I asked them what I should have done instead | |
| I gained something and lost something in that moment of asking |
What Happened Was: he was extending kindness
| What happened was | he was extending kindness |
| What happened was | I shared a slight concern about my prospects |
| I imagine I looked like doubt to him |
| What happened was | he said that when he was in the room |
| he would advocate for me | |
| he would do what he could |
| What happened was | he didn’t think I could be in the room |
| he didn’t think I could be in the room before he was in the room | |
| he didn’t think about how much closer to the room I was | |
| he didn’t think through what he said | |
| he didn’t have to |
| What happened was | not important to him |
| not something he would remember | |
| not worth talking about with him |
| What happened was | what he said didn’t change anything, not really |
| he felt better about himself for having said it | |
| for me, there was only going into the room before him |
| What happened was | he was offering me something |
| I was ungrateful because I didn’t need it |
What Happened Was: ______________________________
| What happened was |
|
| What happened was | I grew through and around and in between it all |
| whatever it was—or wasn’t—became me |
| What happened was | I wrote what happened |
| I erased what I wrote so the page would hold only silence | |
| I didn’t want what happened to interrupt the silence of a blank page | |
| to be contained by the space around it | |
| I didn’t want what had—or had not—happened to matter on a page | |
| I didn’t want it to be seen and not matter | |
| I didn’t want anyone to see how it didn’t matter | |
| erasure is from the Latin for scrape or scratch |
| What happened was | avoidance |
| What happened was | the page made me nervous |
| no, the person I imagined reading the words made me nervous | |
| my memory is unmemorable | |
| I’m no worse for the wear of recollection | |
| I cede that point |
| What happened was | the blank page becomes an invitation |
| a space before text | |
| a place for someone else’s voice | |
| another story | |
| my hand cupped to my ear, I’m listening |
| What happened was | there is room enough |
| it’s a big page | |
| turn the page, and there’s another | |
| turn it over in your mind | |
| draw a blank | |
| fill it in |
Anna Leahy is the author of Aperture (poetry) and Tumor (nonfiction). Her latest chapbook is What Happened Was: (Harbor Editions, 2021). Her essays have won top awards from the Los Angeles Review, Ninth Letter, and Dogwood. She edits TAB: The Journal of Poetry & Poetics. See more at www.amleahy.com.
Harbor Editions, Small Harbor Publishing
What Happened Was: at Small Harbor Publishing
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